Page 82 of Bad Medicine

“He did,” I said, then put afinger to my lips, just in case the angel could somehow hear the echoes of ourconversation. I eased the edge of my jacket open to show him my demon blade.

I’d gone at Lucas with my dwarfblade, not my demon blade. I’d hoped it would work, and it had. My gut had toldme to try. Maybe the dwarf had seen the future. Maybe he’d known about Lucasthe angel, and that he would try to take my demon blade. Who the fuck knew? Icertainly didn’t. All I knew was that the dwarf had saved my life—and my knife.

If, of course, Lucas wouldcontinue believing he had the demon blade.

I needed a way to keep thefucking angel from popping in whenever he wanted to. I’d talk to Saul. Ifanyone could come up with the magic to make that happen, it was Saul. I got up,wrist healed, my relief so huge that I could barely breathe. I still had myprecious demon blade.

For now.

ChapterThirty-Eight

The detective stopped by fiveminutes before I was due to quit the office and see about tracking some daywalkers.“I just got back from interviewing Sam’s mom,” he said. “We need to talk.”

I was happy to get away, thoughI knew that Lucas could find me anywhere. I was jumpy and nervous and couldn’tconcentrate for fear he would realize his mistake and come back for the realthing. “Can you take me by to see little Anthony?” I asked. “I promised TammyI’d pass her message to him.”

“Yeah. We can talk about Sam onthe way.”

Max stayed behind and Iconvinced Joe to stay with him while I took a drive with the detective. Max wasthe only person in the world Joe would have left me for, but the fact that Iwas with Rick helped make his decision easier.

“As soon as you and Rick arefinished,” he told me, following me to Rick’s car to make sure I was actuallyleaving with him, “You come back for me. I’ll see to it that Max goes home.”

“It’s unlikely Lucas willbother with him,” I said. “Or Sam.” Both Rick and Joe cocked their eyebrows atme, so I continued. “Neither of those men is Adam Thorne. I think they’dconsider it beneath them to abduct and torture one of my friends to get to me.”

I didn’t know why I thoughtsuch a thing, but I did.

“I can almost agree about theserial killer,” Rick said, “but the angel? He beat you half to death to get toanother angel. You can’t trust him.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong—I don’ttrusteither one of them,” I said. “I just don’t think they’d sink thatlow.”

“Since when?” Joe asked,growling at a group of pedestrians who accidentally bumped his arm in passing.“The angel just fell into your office, broke your wrist, and stole your blade.He—”

“He stole your blade?” Rickfrowned at me, probably wondering why I wasn’t a quivering, sobbing mess on thefloor. He also took both my hands, one at a time, to look at my perfectlyhealed wrists.

“Damn,” I said, staggering abit as a deep, red-hot pain ripped through my head. It changed in a few secondsto a tiny but powerful hammer that struck my temples, over and over again—butthat was better than the streak of pain that had shot through my skull.

When my vision cleared and thepain had dimmed to a more manageable level, I found myself sitting in Rick’scar, both men hovering over me.

“She does this sometimes sinceTheBeating,” Joe told the detective, his voice low, as though I might somehownot hear him.

“How long does it last?” Rickasked, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Jared’s doctor. Hegave me the number just in case she—”

“Guys,” I said, exasperated anda little embarrassed. “I’m fine. It’s just a headache. It’s fading already.”That wasn’t a lie, thank goodness. “Joe, back inside with Max. I’ll pick you upto track daywalkers after I talk with the detective.” I looked at Rick andraised my eyebrows. “Let’s go. I seriously don’t have all day.”

“She’s definitely feelingbetter,” Joe said, then clapped Rick on the back. “Take good care of her,Detective.”

“I hate you,” I said.

He snorted, then beganwhistling as he walked away, his hands in his pockets.

Rick tried to hide a smile butdidn’t quite succeed. “Should I help you fasten your seatbelt?”

“You can try,” I said, givinghim my sweetest smile, “if you want me to wrap it around your neck and chokeyou with it.”

He laughed, then walked aroundthe front of the car, giving me a wink as I glared at him through thewindshield. When he climbed in under the steering wheel and started the car,though, he sobered. “Sam Keller is always going to be messed up, Kait. He wentthrough too much as a kid to ever come back from it all. Honestly, I don’t knowhow he survived his mother.”

I clenched my fists. “Whathappened?”

He glanced at me, then put hisstare back on the busy street. “Genevieve said Sam’s father raped her. Shenever wanted a kid forced on her by a rapist.”